“You will,” Jess said, her voice growing stern. “The doctor said you’ve passed the markers that indicate you’ll recover your memory. It’s just a matter of time.”
He stared at the Christmas photo. Jess was there, off to the side, wearing a form fitting black dress. “That’s you.”
“Yes.” She bit at her bottom lip. “Alistair, we work together.”
The way she said it sound like a confession. “And…people know we’re engaged, right?”
“Not quite.” She cleared her throat. “We haven’t come out about it, for obvious reasons. It’s just been more convenient to keep it between us. However, we had planned to tell your family soon. Specifically your grandmother.”
“Hm.” He reached for her laptop, clicking through pages related to the business. He read as much as he could until his head started throbbing. “Okay. But how do I know we’re still together? You could just be an ex of mine looking to take advantage of me.”
She leveled him with a flat look. “I know you better than you know yourself.”
He settled back into the couch. “Prove it.”
“Fifteen-inch collar, thirty-two–inch waist, forty-inch chest, insatiable preference for alligator-skin shoes.”
He cocked his head. “OK, so you bought clothes for me once in my life.”
“Condom size: Magnum XL.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t prove that we’re still having sex, only that we had.”
“I was your emergency contact on this trip.”
That one got him. He watched her for a few moments, feeling the remaining bricks of his defense dissolving. Even though nothing made sense, this woman was his life raft. He’d chosen her. And he had to trust that.
“Come here,” he said softly. She scooted over to his couch, sitting down gently beside him. He pushed his fingers through her dark brown hair, enjoying the way her eyes fluttered shut at his touch.
“I know this is all strange and confusing,” she murmured. “But I’m here to help you, not take advantage of you.”
“I believe you.” He ran his thumb along her ear lobe, studying the graceful curve of her neck. He cupped the side of her face, and she reacted immediately, her forearms prickling, her breathing growing heavier.
“We have a chemistry, don’t we?” he whispered into her ear.
She nodded, tilting her head away from him, offering him more neck. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the porcelain skin there. She inhaled sharply.
“How long have I been gone?” he asked.
“About a week,” she said.
“Too long, it looks like.” He dragged his lips up her neck, along the underside of her jaw. Sparks shot through him once his lips landed against hers, impossibly soft and plump. He kissed her once and then again…and then again, each time deeper and longer than the last. She made a small noise against him, her fingers curling around his neck.
“This seems to be helping my headache,” he whispered against her mouth, nuzzling her nose with his.
She laughed, smoothing her palm over his bicep. “I’m sure it is. But remember what the doctor said…”
His cock pulsed in his pants as he snagged another kiss from her. Desire sizzled through him, nearly blinding him. Another searing wave of pain shot through his skull. So the doctor might be right about avoiding sexual activity…
“All right, Nurse Jess,” he whispered, moving his hand along the outside of her thigh. She drew a shaky breath. If this was their chemistry after just a week apart…he was willing to bet they had a fantastic sex life. One he’d be resuming…as soon as he was able.
“Let’s eat something,” she said, squeezing his knee. “I’ll grab the menu.”
He watched as she snatched the room service menu from the table and then gathered her hair to one side of her neck, a rosy blush in her cheeks. He skimmed the options, choosing a quiche with some sort of date topping.
“Oh, but…you’re allergic to dates,” she said.
He blew out a burst of air. “Well, then. How about you pick?”
She smiled softly, looked over the menu, and then nodded. “Okay. I know exactly what you’d get here.” She picked up the room service phone, politely ordering a meal for herself—salmon with asparagus—and his own dinner—king crab with garlic potatoes. She set the phone down, looking satisfied.
“Do I ever order for myself, or do I always just let you do it?”
She snorted. “You might as well let me do it. Because I always pick best. You even say so yourself.”
They shared a long look, one that made Alistair’s chest grow warm. There was no denying it: something about her felt a lot like coming home. And if he’d thought she was beautiful at first glance, he was learning by the minute just how deep her beauty really went.
His life might be messy and confusing, but Jess was the solidest rock he could have asked for.
5
Jess gripped the edge of the bathroom countertop, staring at herself in the mirror. She’d been in here for far too long, probably long enough that Alistair would come knocking soon. They’d been getting ready for bed, yet Jess couldn’t go to bed. She couldn’t sleep in the same bed as her boss, even if he was now her pretend fiancé.
She stared deep into her own eyes, trying to find the kernel of inspiration that had led her down this wild path. He’ll see that this is just an ingenious plan to save the company. Just like all those wild hairs he gets…this is the same thing. Innovative. Clever.
But it didn’t feel as true anymore, and now Alistair was waiting for her in the bedroom in his boxers and an impossibly flat, toned stomach that made her jaw drop whenever she saw it. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Jess had lingered for as long as possible in the living room, feigning drowsiness when he tried to get her into the bedroom, and then becoming absorbed in a book when drowsiness didn’t work. Now there was no backing out. She had to get in the damn king-size bed with Alistair.
She drew a deep breath, nodding slowly at her reflection. This was a big deal…she could admit it to herself. It was more than just Alistair. It was the fact that she’d never spent the night in a bed with a man before.
She’d never done most things with a man before.
And those damn kisses from earlier in the day still burned on her lips, begging for a repeat.
Jess pushed away from the counter, arranging her tank top one last time. Did he like what he saw, at least? She tightened her straps, trying to get the shelf bra to give her girls a little more perk, at least. The fantasy of his rough hands slipping under her shirt scorched through her, sending heat to her face. What might it feel like to have his lips on one of her nipples? She pinched her eyes shut.
Alistair, if you don’t get your memory back tomorrow... She snapped her eyes open. Who knows where we could end up?
In the timeline she’d laid out inside her head, things flowed simply: she arrived to tend to his injuries in Austria, she’d keep the amnesia secret so investors didn’t lose even more faith and affect the stocks, and she’d plant the seed idea of them being a couple to the media so that when his memory did return, he would be overcome with gratitude for her expert handling of a sticky and potentially business-destroying situation.
But what if maintaining that ruse while she waited for his memory to come back meant they had to actually start being a couple, inside the bedroom?
Not tonight. That’s the only line she could draw for now. She opened the door without further hesitation, knowing she’d just sleep in the bathroom if she stayed even a moment longer. Alistair’s gaze snagged her attention immediately, as if he’d been watching for her ever since she went inside.
“There you are,” he said, his eyes flashing up and down her body. She’d opted for tight shorts and a simple tank, but it felt too conservative next to his simple black boxers.
“Beauty takes time.” She turned off the bedroom light and then threw back her side of the covers, scooting underneath. Alistair gravitate
d her way, running his hand along her hip. Her skin prickled traitorously. Keep it platonic.
“Are you tired, Marigold?” His voice grew softer and closer to her ear. She sighed involuntarily—warm bed, even warmer man at her side, that sultry voice. Couples were onto something here.
“I am. The jetlag is kicking my ass.” But she knew sleep wouldn’t come, not with him so close to her.
“Let’s have a sexy nightcap,” he said, his soft lips nipping at her earlobe. She shivered, turning onto her back. He stared down at her, those bedroom eyes unmistakable.
“Sweets, you know we can’t.” She stroked the hair along his temple, hardly daring to breathe this close to him. Alistair was handsome in a way she could hardly understand, as if he’d been sculpted from the remnants of Roman gods and sex appeal incarnate. This close to him, her willpower dissolved faster than sugar in water.
“But, Marigold…” his voice came out muffled into her neck, and she leaned into him, welcoming the intimate nuzzle. Would this feel so good if he were anybody else? The thought scared her, but she couldn’t think about it now.
“You need to rest more,” she chided softly, dragging her fingertips up and down the side of his arm. “Sending all your blood to one spot is not a good idea when your brain is struggling to recover.”
He grunted, falling away a bit. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Maintaining an erection does bring something of a headache along with it.”
She snickered, rolling onto her side away from him. The way he’d said erection throbbed in her memory. “Just sleep, sweets. Tomorrow you’ll feel better.”
“Night, Marigold.” His hand settled in the curve of her waist, and quiet fell over them. She kept a slow count in her head as the memory of their words fell away, leaving only the bloated silence of the dark room between them. After what could have been five minutes or sixty, she shifted slightly, nuzzling deeper into her pillow. Alistair breathed rhythmically at her side, and she focused on his breath, trying like hell to relax and think about anything other than what his penis might look like.
* * *
Sleep eventually came, though she wasn’t sure how she managed it. When she finally came to, it was broad daylight outside, sunshine streaking the bed with ethereal patterns. Alistair was awake, propped up at her side, looking down on her like an angel with a secret.
“Oh. My God.” She jolted, bringing the covers up over her face. This felt too exposed, too early. She hadn’t even had a chance to put on a layer of foundation.
“Morning, Marigold.” He followed her under the covers, seeking out a kiss no matter how much she squirmed away. A giggle erupted from her once he finally pinned her to the bed, planting a juicy kiss on her lips.
She threw the covers back, gasping for air. “Okay, you got me. You win. How did you sleep?”
His kisses trailed across her collarbone, over the roundness of her shoulder. “Well. I even had some dreams.”
“Oh?” Her heart rate picked up while his hand skated across her exposed low belly, two of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her shorts. “About what?”
“About work. I remembered the type of work I do, and I had some visions of the company itself.” He paused, his fingers stilling in their trek. Her pussy pulsed desperately, willing his hand to go further while also desperate to escape. But she couldn’t make herself move away. Not quite yet. “I don’t know if they’re real or invented, but it’s something.”
“Wow.” Her breath came out a hoarse whisper. She shifted against him, suddenly so desperate for his touch that she couldn’t even see straight. She’d never woken up so horny. “That’s really encouraging.”
“Mm-hmm.” He buried his face in her neck again, his fingers resuming their lazy patterns along her waistband. She tensed, hardly breathing as she waited to see how far he’d push. “I think we should go back.”
Terror sidled through her, the sexy mood dissipating in a flash. No. Definitely not. She rolled away from him, heading for the bathroom. “Oh, man, hang on, I’ve gotta pee.”
She assessed the white tiled floor as she peed, her mind roiling with possibilities. He wanted to go back, yet he was still suffering from amnesia. At this point, nobody knew the extent of his damage. And it was better that way. Speculation and doubts would only fuel the nosedive of the company’s stock values. And those stocks needed to stay up if she was going to cash out and send herself to college.
If word got out that he was suffering from amnesia, then their whole relationship ruse was doomed, even more than her earlier attempts to find him a fake girlfriend. No, this needed to stay under wraps. Or else.
She brushed her teeth and then breezed out of the bathroom, heading for her suitcase. “It’s time to get up and face the day, don’t you think?”
He ran his thumb over his knuckle, watching her carefully. “We should go back to the office, Jess.”
She groaned inwardly. Just like pre-crash Alistair, he was a hound for any idea that struck him. Getting him to loosen up on a whim or a desire was like taking fresh meat from a dog. “But we still have a week left on this reservation. You want to go back now?”
Uncertainty crossed his face. “I feel like I should get back to it. But I…maybe I wouldn’t be of much use yet.”
“Resting is the priority,” she said, cupping his face in her hands. He looked up at her with such puppy-dog eyes that it nearly broke her heart. “You’re just a very driven man; you’re used to high octane everything, all the time. But you really, seriously, need to take it easy for a little bit. Even if it hurts to sit still.”
He sighed, his gaze dropping to her chest. He squeezed her hips, bringing her closer to him. “I suppose Nurse Jess is right.”
“Nurse Jess and your Austrian team of doctors should not be messed with,” she warned jokingly, slipping out of his embrace.
Alistair gnawed on the inside of his lip, studying something in the distance. “But I can rest at home, too.”
She stilled in her path across the room, turning slowly to face him. “But Alistair. The plane ride alone—”
“It might be rough, but I’d rather be in my own space, my own home.” He gestured around him. “Not that I would recognize it…but it might help.”
Her heart raced as she struggled to find a good enough reason to keep him here: disconnected from the world, without a phone or computer, so that he could recuperate and they could finalize their game plan. “But…we have plans here.”
“What? More skiing, which put me in this position in the first place?”
She swallowed a dry taste in her mouth. “No. It’s just that…well…” She heaved a sigh, sitting gently on the edge of the bed beside him. “I really had hoped that you would remember this yourself.”
His expression softened. “What is it?”
“My parents are coming,” she blurted. Oh God. This was getting out of hand now. “We had agreed a while ago that you would come for the first week for a solo trip, and then I’d join for the final week with my parents. It was…” She pursed her lips, searching his face. “It was supposed to be our formal announcement that we’re engaged.”
Her heart hammered between her ears as she watched his reaction move from surprise to confusion. “Are they here yet?”
“No. They’re arriving the day after tomorrow.” She picked at something nonexistent on her tank top. Would she go to hell for this? Or maybe Alistair would just wake up tomorrow with his memory intact, reflect on all these insane stories, and fire her immediately. She wasn’t even sure if this counted as innovative or clever anymore. Probably just dumb.
No backing out now. She steadied herself, offering him a small smile.
“Christ.” He ran a hand through his hair, popping to his feet. He began pacing the room. “So we’re going to tell your parents. What about mine?”
“We had planned that for later, like maybe in the next few weeks.” She pinched at the bridge of her nose. Definitely going to hell. This was worse than
skirting the issue of her bachelor’s degree during Alistair’s unorthodox interview, where he’d asked her to organize a file cabinet before even getting her name. She’d never shown him a resumé and never explicitly said “I don’t have a degree,” but then again, he’d never asked, “Do you have a degree?” So he’d assumed incorrectly.
This, however, was a new level of subterfuge.
“You just wanted to have a little getaway with my parents,” she went on. “Something so you could all get to know each other.”
“Don’t I know them by now? I mean, how long have we been together?”
“You don’t really know them, actually,” she said. “We’ve been keeping this pretty under wraps…because of the business, you know…”
“Well, do you know my parents?”
“Peripherally,” she said. “They’ve come by the office before. We’ve spoken on the phone plenty. I’d say I definitely know them more than you know my parents.”
He nodded, clasping his hands behind his back as he paced the far side of the room. “Right. Well…I suppose once they come by, we can head back to the States with them. Sound good? Maybe even a bit early. A day or two.”
Typical restless Alistair. She shrugged. “Sure. Sounds great.”
As long as she got him to stick around this hotel for as long as possible, they’d have a shot at turning things around for everyone involved.
6
Another day went by under the same tense conditions: ignoring her body’s very real reaction to Alistair’s constant nearness while delicately juggling enough lies to light her pants on fire.
By midafternoon on day three, Jess felt like combusting. After a particularly heated workout in the hotel gym, she returned to their suite to hear Alistair’s smooth voice.
“Right…well, I can’t see why that would be a bother.” He chuckled smoothly. “So you said by tomorrow evening? Brilliant.”
The Beaumont Brothers: The Complete Series Page 13